


Whatever It Is You Need

by Provocatrixxx



Category: The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Blow Jobs, Incest, Kissing, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-26
Updated: 2013-10-26
Packaged: 2017-12-30 13:38:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1019274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Provocatrixxx/pseuds/Provocatrixxx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Smile properly, Ty, or you’ll kill the fish again,” Anders tells him, leaning over to brush his fingertips across Ty’s lips. He does get a real smile for his pains, even as Ty bats his hand away and moves to re-fill his wine glass. He doesn’t get drunk often, but he’s soft and pliable when he curls back into the sofa, and Anders settles his hands on him again, needing to touch, to knead tired muscles and cool skin.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <i>“I’m sorry,” Ty says eventually. His eyes are closed, head tipped back against the arm of the sofa, and Anders traces the long line of his neck with his gaze. “About your fish,” Ty elaborates when the silence stretches out between them for too long. And he looks so very sad and lost that Anders wants to hide him in his bedroom again, and sleep sitting with his back to the door to keep the world out.</i></p><p> </p><p>Set in late S2 just after Anders gets back from Norway. Eva made a mess of Ty, and now Anders wants to put him back together. He's not sure he meant to do it quite like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whatever It Is You Need

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
> _Whatever it is you need  
>  I pray I am_  
> 

Ty’s asleep on the long sofa, his feet bare, and red-lines marring his skin where he’s pressed himself into the leather. He looks wrecked, paler than Anders has ever seen him, his eyes rimmed red with exhaustion. Anders has half a mind to call Mike again, ask him what the hell he was thinking letting Ty marry that creature, but then Ty shuffles in his sleep, almost falling, and his body goes tense as his eyes fly open.

“Hey,” he says after a few deep breaths.

“Hey.” Anders smiles, and Ty relaxes fractionally, stretching out on the sofa and rubbing at the marks on his face. “Beer?” he asks, crossing to the fridge without waiting for an answer. As far as he’s concerned, the more Ty can relax, the faster his brother will feel better about himself. There’s a half-empty bottle of Sauvignon Blanc in the fridge door, and he tucks it into the crook of his elbow as he grabs the beers, setting it down on the coffee table.

“Budge up,” he says, settling down on the end of the sofa. The leather is cool where Ty’s been sleeping, and he tucks one foot up under his knee for more warmth. Ty is oblivious however, leaning back against the opposite arm and closing his eyes as he takes a gulp of his beer.

“So anyway, I’m in this tiny hotel in the middle of Oslo, freezing my bollocks off-” Ty’s heard most of the stories already, of course, but Anders tells them all again anyway, eventually pulling another bottle of wine from the fridge and sprawling back out across the sofa. Ty’s feet are cold against his thigh, and Anders draws them up into his lap, rubbing some warmth into them while he talks. Ty’s relaxed enough to laugh now, letting out an undignified sound when Anders runs the tips of his fingers across the sensitive arch of his foot.

“Don’t!” he squeaks, and moves to pull away, but Anders has had years of teasing his brother, and he catches Ty’s ankle in a firm grip.

“She made a mess of you,” Anders says, and the words spill out before he can catch them. He’s not sure if the air goes cold because Ty wills it so, or if it was him who broke the atmosphere between them. He goes back to rubbing warmth into Ty’s feet, waiting for the chill to subside.

“I thought I deserved it,” Ty sighs, and Anders feels the tension lessen in his legs a little. “We suited each other.”

“Just because you’re the God of all things dark doesn’t mean you deserve fucking Maleficent for a wife, Ty.” He doesn’t push it though. He’s known Ty for long enough to read him like a book, and when Ty presses his lips together, Anders knows to back off.

They lapse back into silence, but it isn’t as cold this time, and Ty looks more tired than sad. He shifts again, and Anders lets go of his feet, quietly satisfied when Ty slouches down on the couch and sets his calves back across Anders’ lap.

“Do you ever wish you could just get rid of him?” Ty asks.

“Who?”

“Bragi.”

“No,” Anders says, too fast, but it’s the truth. The God sits below his skin, sparks through his blood and pours from his mouth so often that he has become a part of him. He’s less of a mask now, more an alternate face.

Ty just smiles a little sadly.

“Smile properly, Ty, or you’ll kill the fish again,” Anders tells him, leaning over to brush his fingertips across Ty’s lips. He does get a real smile for his pains, even as Ty bats his hand away and moves to re-fill his wine glass. He doesn’t get drunk often, but he’s soft and pliable when he curls back into the sofa, and Anders settles his hands on him again, needing to touch, to knead tired muscles and cool skin.

“I’m sorry,” Ty says eventually. His eyes are closed, head tipped back against the arm of the sofa, and Anders traces the long line of his neck with his gaze. “About your fish,” Ty elaborates when the silence stretches out between them for too long. And he looks so very sad and lost that Anders wants to hide him in his bedroom again, and sleep sitting with his back to the door to keep the world out.

“Don’t worry about the fish,” he says instead, and then, because he has had a lot of wine, he reaches out and trails his fingers down the line of Ty’s throat.

The sound Ty makes is halfway between a yelp and a whimper, and his eyes fly open in surprise. For anyone else, Anders would have a smooth line to soothe away their worries, but Ty knows him down to his bones, and he is worth far more than cheap words. He doesn’t pull away though, he just watches, his eyes half-lidded, as Anders drags his fingertips back up the line of his throat, stroking over his jaw.

“Say yes,” he says, putting his wine glass down on the floor and leaning over Ty, a hand resting behind his head on the arm of the sofa.

“Yes,” Ty says, tilting his head up so that his lips meet Anders’ coming down. He’s not cold any more, and his lips are soft, mouth opening under Anders’ on a soft sigh. Anders smiles into the kiss, sucks on Ty’s bottom lip until Ty’s fingers slide into his hair, tugging him down. When Ty slides his tongue into Anders’ mouth and rubs slick against his own, Anders groans and lets his weight settle on top of Ty. It’s not like he’s in any danger of crushing him, after all.

They kiss slowly, as though they’re learning each other, and Ty’s hands curl around his skull, holding him in place as he kisses up into Anders’ mouth. He’s gentle, kind even, and Anders presses into his touch, his lips, brings his other arm up to cage Ty’s head, fingers trailing through his short hair. Ty makes these tiny little sighs, and Anders pulls back a little, trails kisses across his jaw and down his throat, just to feel the vibrations of them.

Ty groans, arching under him, and then his hands are tugging on Anders’ hair again, pulling him back for a kiss that is filthy and deep and full of intent. They’re neither of them fragile, and Anders scrabbles at the leather of the sofa, grinding down into the cradle of Ty’s hips, rocking against the hardness he finds there.

“I have a bed,” he whispers when they part, then sucks Ty’s earlobe into his mouth and nibbles on it gently. Ty is stronger than he is. He pushes at Anders’ shoulders, and Anders feels the cold swoop of acid deep in his stomach, and he closes his eyes as Ty rolls out from under him.

“Yes,” Ty says again, tilting his head at Anders’ confusion, and this time he’s smiling for real. Anders reaches out and slaps him on the arse.

It takes them a while to strip and make it to the bedroom. They get distracted by skin, smooth muscle and soft hair traced by curious fingers and lips. Ty kisses, slow and hungry, and Anders puts his hands over every inch of his brother’s skin, learning the shape of him. They’re careful with each other, almost wary, and Anders has to swallow around something heavy in his throat, push away the wrong wrong wrong and focus on how warmth is flooding Ty’s skin.

He bites down lightly where Ty’s jaw meets his neck, and Ty shivers under his hands, tipping his head back to give Anders more access. There are still shadows of Eva’s teeth down the line of Ty’s neck, and Anders smudges them away with his lips and his tongue, biting down until Ty is marked by his own bites instead. Ty goes willingly when Anders pushes him down on the bed, pale against the Navy blue of Anders’ sheets.

If he thought either of them were up to it, Anders would press Ty’s hands into the pillows and pin him to the bed, kiss over every inch of him and replace the ice in his veins with fire. But it’s been too long coming, and neither of them have that kind of patience tonight. Ty whines pathetically, and pulls Anders down on top of him, tugging their hips together and rutting desperately.

It’s been a while since he’s had another man in his bed, much less one who can manhandle him in the way that Ty does. Anders arches into him, leaning up to kiss him, slow and messy, sliding a thigh between Ty’s own.

“C’mon,” he whispers in Ty’s ear, biting down on his earlobe as Ty arches his back, hips pistoning furiously. Ty comes with a low groan, head falling back as his hips stutter, coating Ander’s hips and lower stomach with his come. He flushes red when he looks back up at Anders, gaze flickering away awkwardly before he grabs Anders’ shoulders and rolls them both over on the bed.

His hands are cool as they curl around Anders’ wrists, pulling his arms above his head and pressing them into the pillows, bending to catch his mouth in a kiss that is all demand.

“Stay,” he says, pressing down hard enough to bruise to make his point clear. Anders is all too happy to oblige, leaning back as Ty crawls down his body, biting and licking as he goes. He leaves a stinging trail of teeth marks down Anders’ treasure-trail, strong hands pressing Ty’s hips into the sheets as Anders squirms with delight, and oh, he could do this forever, lounge back against the pillows and let his brother take him to pieces.

Ty nuzzles into the space where Anders’ hip meets his thigh, fingers digging into the flesh of Anders’ thighs to keep him still. He smirks up at him as he leans in and licks a slick stripe up the underside of Anders’ cock, and the relative coolness of his tongue makes Anders hiss, bucking up into the strong grip of Ty’s hands.

He takes Anders into his mouth slowly, almost as though he is savouring it, and Anders is tempted to stroke his fingers into Ty’s hair and promise that this isn’t the a one time thing. But then Ty flicks the tip of his tongue over the slit of Anders’ cock, and he loses all higher brain function. Ty is far too good at this, sucking and licking and pinning Anders’ hips until he’s squirming with it, orgasm tantalisingly close.

“Ty,” he warns, and his voice is loud, cracking in the space between them. Ty’s eyes are positively wicked as he glances back up, and then he’s pulling almost all the way off, lips tight around the head of Anders’ cock and tongue painting obscene patterns there. It’s all too much, and Anders slams his head back into the pillows as he comes, shaking apart under Ty’s mouth and hands.

“Well aren’t you full of surprises,” he says, sliding a hand into Ty’s hair and using it to drag him back up for a kiss. Up close, Ty’s eyes are still shadowed, the skin around his mouth tight with exhaustion. His skin is warmer now though, and slick with their sweat and come where they’re pressed up close. It’s a little disgusting, but Anders strokes the back of Ty’s neck, kisses the taste of himself out of Ty’s mouth.

“Shower?” he suggests when his heart rate slows back to normal and the mess between them becomes too gross to bear.

“Is this the part where you pack me off home with nothing but a smile and some memories?” Ty asks, but his voice is too sharp, and it slides between Anders’ ribs like a knife.

“No,” he says, but Ty is already pulling away from him, sitting back on his heels and rubbing his hands over his face.

Ty frowns, mouth set in a thin line as he slides off the bed and digs through their discarded clothing until he finds his boxers. 

“Ty, I wouldn’t do that to you,” Anders says quietly, catching him by the wrist so that Ty is forced to turn back to him.

“You do it to everyone else,” Ty says, and the smile he gives Anders is sad and small.

“Not to you.” It’s true. He’s never kicked Ty out, even when they were kids. It’s always been the two of them, laughing in the face of Mike’s rules, easing each others little hurts. He ought to be freaking out at the sight of them naked with the bed in disarray, skin sticky with each others’ come. But instead it feels like an inevitable conclusion, as though they’ve been leading each other here from the very start.

“Shower?” Anders offers again, and this time, Ty’s smile is wide and very real.

END

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Ron Pope's _[Headlights on the Highway](http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/ronpope/headlightsonthehighway.html)_


End file.
